


Puzzle Room

by heinesteiner



Category: DOGS (Manga)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Childhood Memories, Gen, Memories, Memory Related
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-13
Updated: 2014-05-13
Packaged: 2018-01-24 14:05:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1607834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heinesteiner/pseuds/heinesteiner
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Inside Heine's mind things are stuck in a never-ending cycle that Kerberos likes to comment on upon occasion. Most of the time he keeps to the space he saves for himself, watching horrific puzzles twist and turn and memories walk among them, until Heine calls him out to play, all with a smile on his face.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Puzzle Room

**Author's Note:**

> A little look into what I feel like goes inside Heine's mind.

“Come little children…” Tentacles slipped out of the circular hole in the wall as the hushed voice spoke. They were almost liquid-like in solidity. When they hit the floor with a splash they became a spray of puzzle pieces, scattering at the children’s feet. “If you do this I will love you with all my heart.”

The woman’s long fingers traced the edge of the tallest boy’s cheek. He held onto his sister. Her fine lips were turned up in the most sinister smile and those delicate hands gripped the third child’s neck. Gashes were left in the skin, but no blood seeped from the wound.

He had white hair; they had blond. He had red eyes; theirs were not. They had color in their skin. He was colorless and alone. The expression on his face showed that. While the others seemed to have an underlying tone of happiness his eyes were distant and yearning. How sad for a child to look so lonely.

Pieces of the puzzle fused together to create a picture. More pieces joined them, adding to the creation. Somehow the tiny hole in the wall could provide such large amounts of the tiny materials. Most joined onto the main piece, but others made their own works of art.

The white haired boy didn’t watch. He never did. This happened each day at a set time and nothing changed. In the end, the image would be the same and it would disappear, though it would forever be etched into his mind. The past was very hard to give up, after all.

Each day the puzzle would piece itself together as he remembered. Then it would show what he least desired. At that moment the pieces stopped. All was done. Before the children was a picture, the white haired boy sitting in a pool of blood with his sister’s torso in his arms, detached from the rest of her. That part was behind him, intestines and other organs in his lap and blood covering every inch of the floor.

But she had been saved, hadn’t she?

The third child, his brother, was beside the mass of bodies his sister had slaughtered. Some lay dismembered beyond recognition, others somewhat resembling the person they once were. This boy’s eyes had seen it all and somehow survived. He would live to see another day, innocence ripped from his gaze.

Another person walked into the room. He looked like an older version of the tallest boy but his eyes were dark and lifeless. A smile graced his lips, not that it was one people wanted to see. The man threw his arms towards the ceiling and turned around once, surveying the area.

“Ehehe! Isn’t it nice, hah?” Laughter followed his words. His fingers lightly traced the edges of the children’s clothes. “Can’t believe ya did it yourself! Oh wait… ya didn’t! I helped ya out… Keh. Yer so fuckin’ useless without me… Bet ya can hear this, huh? Listen loud ‘n clear, Heine-chaaan!” He trailed off on a tangent, giving the white haired boy a stern talking to. None of it sounded serious, but rather him picking fun of the child’s helplessness and reliance on power.

After the speech the man settled down and leaned back, putting his hands behind his head. Dark eyes fluttered closed until he was called out again but unruly thoughts. When that happened he would smile and leave this puzzle room.

This was the room of Heine’s mind that he lived in, a space just for him and his dreams. And if Heine called out to him in despair he would exit and come. Looking at frozen and infinitely repeating figments of a traumatized person’s memory could get so _boring_. He hated it.

Fingers pressed against the skin of Heine’s cheek. It was cold and hard, like a statue. That was all the children had become at that point. They were frozen in time, destined to watch and preserve Heine’s memories of the times. The man would never forget. The man living inside of his head would make sure of that.

But this girl he killed had been saved, hadn’t she?

Lily was saved from the horrors of the world, safe and alone and away from the hell Heine lived through in order to forget her. For this man could never do anything to atone for his sins. No matter how much power he had in his hands as they crushed skulls and teeth as they tore skin, he would fail. It was fate.

And it was time for the man dozing on the floor between Heine's memories to rise and make an appearance. Lips pulled back over his teeth as he stood slowly, dusting off his pants. Stiff fingers curled into a tight fist. Arms flexed, joints popping. He was  _excited_. 


End file.
